


Held at gunpoint

by LoverofMidnight



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26700091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoverofMidnight/pseuds/LoverofMidnight
Summary: A sense of calm fell over him, as he watched the man walked up and down muttering angrily under his breath. His eyes strayed over to the phone; he wonders if his brother is planning on tracking them.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Held at gunpoint

Sherlock’s eyes open slowly. His head felt like a truck run over him a few times, and back up for the fun of it. 

A glance around the room only showed him two things. One that John is not in the room with him, and two that he does not have a clue as to where they are. 

Sherlock takes a deep breath. Dust and some more dust settled into his nose, making it twitch slightly. John, Sherlock knows he needs to find his friend and fast. 

It is never a good idea, to wake up in an abandoned warehouse. Not with Moriarty still out there. Sherlock bit his lip as he pushed himself up. The pain that shoots through his head made him want to close his eyes and stay where he is.

The first step he took was slightly shaky. 

Sherlock almost laughed to himself, it would have been a great morning. They were on their way to a murder scene when the taxi suddenly swerved off the road.

The doors were forced opened and two men grabbed them. Sherlock stopped walking, it was clear that they were military, but why on earth would the military want with them? Maybe it was Mycroft who organised it.

But as soon as the idea popped into his head, it also immediately left again. Sherlock knows he can say what he wants about Mycroft, but the man does care about him.

With a low groan, he walked to the door again. He strained his ears to hear but the only thing to be heard was silence.

With a slight push, Sherlock opened the door. The walls were bricked, both ways had doors on either side off the hallway. 

Sherlock looked at the doors intently to see with one was opened from the outside. After nearly five minutes, on the other side of the hallway, he found the door. He pressed he hear against the door. He could make out muffled sounds on the other side.

A scream that reared up from inside, made him pushed the door open. For a moment Sherlock could feel the urge to attacked. 

A young male was standing over John, holding a Glock 19 to John’s head. It was clear, that John was pistol-whipped, as there was a bruise the size of a fist on John’s face. 

“Good to see you got here so fast, was worried for a moment that you would not wake up completely.” The males’ voice was mocking and arrogant. 

Sherlock was silent for a moment. 

“What do you want?” His voice was almost silent. John could see that he wanted to reach out to him. 

“You are going to call your brother and tell him my boss wants his files back. If he does not comply well then both of you go boom.” With a slight movement from the gun, was Sherlock showed to sat down.

Sherlock easily sat down. He caught the phone that was thrown to him. “Go ahead, call your brother.” 

For a moment Sherlock wondered if it was going to be even worth it to call Mycroft. He knows his older brother well enough that he will not do a trade if the person is part of the underground.

His eyes swept to John’s face. He wished he could make this better for a slight second. 

With ease, he started to type in his brother’s number. The phone rang for about thirty seconds before he heard the icy voice of his brother. 

“Mycroft...” Before Sherlock could continue, as he interrupted but his brother.

“Where are you? You have disappeared two hours ago, with no way of tracking you.” His voice sounded rushed and for a moment Sherlock wanted to believe that he could hear the worry in his brother's voice.

“One of your friends are asking their boss files back Mycroft.” Sherlock looked at the man as he said that. 

The male mouthed at him, none of your tricks.

Sherlock forced himself to take a breath as the man pressed the gun harder against John’s head. His head felt like it would explode as he tried to think of a way out. He knows if he moves that John would be dead.

And there is no way that John would be able to help with the way he was tied down. 

“Mycroft please.” Sherlock could feel a sense of angst slowly enter him as he waited for his brother answer.

The silence stretches over a period. “I can’t Sherlock. I am sorry.” Mycroft’s voice was soft as he said it.

“Mycroft he is going to shoot John, please.” Sherlock tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like there was no air to breathe.

“I am sorry Lock.” Mycroft voice was so firm. The shot that was sent off made Sherlock freeze. His eyes widen and the phone dropped from his hand. 

Without a conscious, though was the next to John.

On one hand was Sherlock glad that John had lost consciousness as the bullet had ripped through his bad shoulder.

The man looked at the scene with a sneer, as he picked up the phone. He switched the call to video, showing Mycroft his brother panic face as he tried to stop the bleeding with his hand.

“The files Mycroft, or you will find them dead in a field. You have two hours.” With those words, the phone was shut off.

Sherlock was slowly mummering to John as his eyes slowly opened. For a moment, the two friends looked at each other, and the blessed darkness claimed John again. 

The two hours passed in slowly. Sherlock could not help but give a sigh of relieve when the man finally picked up his phone again. 

Sherlock’s could feel his hope silently die out as the man throw the phone against the wall. A bitter laugh bubble up from his lips. 

Off course, Mycroft would not do this sort of trade. 

A sense of calm fell over him, as he watched the man walked up and down muttering angrily under his breath. His eyes strayed over to the phone; he wonders if his brother is planning on tracking them.

Or maybe he decided that living with the guilt of his brother and friend on his hand for the rest of his life would be better.

Sherlock did not look up when the man went to stand next to him. He did not bother to say anything before the shot rang through the room. Silencing the life in there forever.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the one-shot. I can also be found on Tumblr @lover-of-modnight


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